Contra Mundum
by IanPhilippe
Summary: After one wild Gryffidnor party, Seamus discovers that not everything is like it seems to be. The path to self-discovery is rough and long... will he make it? Seamus/Neville; rated for language and not-so-idealized-world, construct. criticism appreciated
1. Chapter 1

~*~*~*~*~*~

**Contra Mundum**

~*~*~*~*~*~

**Disclaimer:** I am not JKR or Warner Bros., thus I don't own any of the mentioned characters or places. I don't make any profit except my personal satisfaction and the only thing I intend is to entertain fangirls.

**Warnings: **language, homosexuality, AU

**Pairings:** Seamus / Neville

**A/N:** This story is AU – Dumbledore is alive, Snape doesn't murder anything besides his potions ingredients and Voldy is a threat all right, but a distant one, as always. This is the kind of seventh-year Hogwarts that would happen if HP was a more peaceful book.

Also, this contains homophobia issues – if you want to read a story where everyone is gay or at least accepting towards gay people, go read something else. This is based more on reality, or what I think would be possible in the old-fashioned wizarding world. I tried to make it as real as possible, so please, give me some feedback, because I'm a comment whore XD and I want to know what I can do better next time.

For those who don't speak Latin and want to know, the title means "Against the World".

~*~*~*~*~*~

When anyone in Gryffindor Tower said "Hey, let's celebrate," it could also be translated as "Let's drink ourselves into oblivion, demolish the Tower with loud music and make some mischief, the more the better." Also, it was usually carried out according to the said translation.

When "let's celebrate" echoed, the younger Gryffindors shivered in fear for their possessions kept in the Tower. One never knew what would blow up when seventh-years got dead drunk.

Which was on fairly regular basis, by the way.

The mornings after such parties usually looked pretty much just like this one. Various pieces of clothing scattered around the common room, empty bottles under the tables with the ones who emptied them and not-so-empty ones still being embraced by their owners who didn't have anything – or anyone – else to hold onto on the long way to the nearest bathroom. Thanks to the magic, the mess was usually easily taken care of, except things like the ceiling burned by a curse no one remembered throwing or a jumper permanently charm-glued to the chair, apparently by someone who got too angry with his clothes sliding off the chair and then forgot what spell he had used.

The most positive outcome of a party like that were radiant faces of people who got laid, enjoyed it and weren't drunk enough to forget it completely (or were still sore enough to remember). The young man who just entered the common room with a brilliant grin plastered on his face was one of the regulars in this matter. Maybe that was why no one complained when he threw himself on the freshly-cleaned sofa (he probably wouldn't if he knew just _what_ got spelled away from that place just a second ago) and sighed contentedly:

"Merlin... I got the _best _blowjob I ever had tonight."

"Yeah?" one of the boys showed mild interest in the matter to be polite. Everyone knew Seamus would tell anyway, but they were still too far from the effects of Sobering Potions to be in the mood for listening to their classmate's dramatic pauses.

"Yeah. She was just too cute... and goddamn skilled. Really... too bad I don't remember her face. Only the blue sweater and the brown hair I held while she..."

Hermione coughed pointedly and Seamus, along with several other boys, rolled his eyes. She was a Head Prefect and even if she drank with them, she was still a bit prudish about discussing what she called "intimate matters" openly. Seamus remembered how he once told Ron that if she was that old-fashioned even in bed, it must be boring as hell, and when Ron smirked and told him she was completely different with him, Hermione smacked her boyfriend and didn't talk to him for half a day.

But now, he didn't have Hermione in mind. Seamus wondered who that secret girl from the last night was – she was really good, with his amount of experience he could tell she was a natural.

"Too bad I was that drunk... haven't any of you seen me with someone?" he asked, not really expecting the answer – as he knew his dormmates, they had been even more smashed than him by the time they could have seen him with his mysterious girl.

But the answer came, anyway... even if it was a bit different from what he expected. A girl from sixth year raised her hand hesitantly.

"I was coming back to the Tower around two AM and you were with Neville in the corridor."

Seamus rolled his eyes impatiently:

"A _girl_ I said, Neville is..."

"...wearing blue," Hermione pointed out, as said boy entered the Tower, looking a bit tired.

"What?" he asked, looking around and seeing disbelief on his classmates' faces. "What happened?"

"Seamus was telling us about an incredible blowjob he received this night," Ron said, his voice strangely strained. "She had a blue sweater and brown hair."

"Come on, Ron, it's just a coincidence... there could be dozens of brown-haired people with blue sweaters," Seamus raised an eyebrow at the redhead and turned to Neville: "Tell him, Nev."

Seamus watched in horror as Neville blushed beet-red.

"It _was_ you?!" he yelled, wanting the other boy to deny it, to say it was only a joke, _whatever_, just to wash off that disgust off of their classmates' faces. Since it was clear that they were disgusted, some of them horrified, and most of those negative emotions weren't directed at Seamus.

Neville turned around and ran away without a word.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hey, Finnigan, is it true? By the way we have some blue sweaters if you are in need."

Seamus gritted his teeth and almost bit his fork off. Dean gave him a sympathetic look:

"Ignore it."

"I'm trying my best. But it's getting pretty damn annoying," Seamus growled and tried to glare menacingly at the one who yelled at him earlier from the Ravenclaw table, even though it was nearly impossible to scare them off with his current reputation.

Only a day had passed since he discovered that the best blowjob of his life included another male and now it seemed that it was a laugh of the week in Hogwarts. Everyone seemed to know and the looks and comments he received were driving him crazy. Not that all were ill-meant; most of them were only innocent – though silly – jokes and Seamus knew he would probably say the same if it didn't concern him. But there were some comments that made his blood boil. If Dean hadn't been there to cool him down, Seamus would surely have broken a few noses before lunch.

Suddenly, the whole Great Hall went silent and Seamus looked up to see what had made the usually noisy students shut up so abruptly.

It was Neville – blushing a deep shade of red, looking down to the ground and ignoring all the whistles and catcalls that roared through the Hall after a second of silence.

His hair was rich pink.

He sat down next to Dean and mumbled a greeting, apparently trying to be invisible and eat as quickly as possible.

"Hi there, Nev… nice colour."

Neville gave Dean a suffering look and touched his hair, his eyes following his hand in attempt to see at least his own fringe.

"Still pink?"

"Yeah."

"Well… it's kinda funny, isn't it," Neville smiled weakly and turned back to his plate, trying to eat everything at once. "I wanted to wait until there were less people here, but I only have fifteen minutes before Herbology starts, so I didn't have a choice…"

Dean patted his back, feeling sorry for the babbling boy when Neville started choking on his turkey and then, silence engulfed the trio, broken only by an occasional snicker or snide remark thrown at their back.

"Well, then, I'm going... bye..." Neville said to the table more than to his dormmates and left, followed by another wave of whistles and stupidities. Two or three Professors looked at the yelling students warningly, but it seemed that they did so only out of sense of duty, and they returned to their plates quickly enough.

"I wonder what spell turns out like that when you mispronounce," Seamus watched the pink head vanish in the crowd and grinned. He remembered that one time when Harry and Ron turned _his_ hair blue for a whole day...

Seamus caught Dean's look and something fell into place.

"You don't think..."

"It's too much of a coincidence, don't you think?" Dean frowned and crossed his arms on his chest. "Someone must have thought it funny. And I'm afraid that's not the end."

~*~*~*~*~*~

In the next few days, Dean's gloomy predictions proved to be accurate. Neville had never been the cleverest or most skilled when it came to schoolwork, but suddenly, everything fell out of his hands, everything blasted when he was near and he tripped three times more often than usual, without any bags or stones in his way.

Apart from having his hair dyed pink (which was spelled back to their normal dark brown by McGonagall, followed by a biting remark to keep the experiments for the holiday and a glare for the rest of the classroom), Neville's quills and parchments suddenly turned pink on daily basis too and his bag smelled like lavender and roses and something that reminded Seamus of a cheap brothel. Also, every prankster on Hogwarts suddenly seemed to be keen on the idea of trying their newest purchases and inventions on Neville – Seamus could swear that every time he saw Nev, the boy had scales, shed leaves or coughed fire.

Also, the school robes apparently seemed dull to some people, because they took the courtesy of decorating Neville's with some embroidery or lace (even feathers, on one occasion) every now and then. The result was that Nev's clothes looked like something between Professor Lupin's usual outfit and Ron's dress robes, because getting rid of the unwanted accessories wasn't all that easy.

After a few days, it was still rarer to see Neville – Seamus heard some fifth-years snickering about him hiding. He glared at them and boys turned pale, but it didn't set Seamus' mind at peace. He had his share of this new wave of "pranks" and he had enough of that. He could always laugh at himself, he didn't have a problem with that – but he wasn't stupid and saw the difference between a funny little prank and ill-natured bullying.

For him, the worst part was that even his friends seemed to enjoy this new pastime. Especially Ron and other pure-blooded students seemed to be very inventive when it came to annoying innuendos and hints. Though always masked with a smile and a laugh from both sides, the cold looks didn't leave him hanging – Ron was insulting him and it was getting on his nerves, because he couldn't do much about it.

Seamus stormed through the Gryffindor Tower, catching a few words he could do very well without, and slammed the door to their bedroom.

"Hey," Dean greeted him and looked up from the book he was reading. When he met his friend's furious eyes, he frowned: "What? Why are you looking like that?"

"Maybe I want to molest you," growled Seamus and sat on his own bed, almost shaking with rage. "Go on, have a laugh at my expense like everyone else."

"I don't give a damn about who you sleep with, Seamus, you should know that," Dean gave him a stern look, "as long as it's not Mrs. Norris or Dumbledore."

"Or Snape," Seamus grinned, his mood apparently a bit better, and Dean rubbed his chin in mock consideration:

"Snape's not that bad, actually, you don't know what's hidden under all those robes..."

When Seamus gaped at Dean with terror written all over his face, the black boy sighed and rolled his eyes:

"Come on, Seamus, just joking. Really, you're taking this too seriously."

"I bet you wouldn't say that if it were you who had his cock in some bloke's mouth."

"I remember you boasting about how great _her_ skill was," Dean winked at him and grinned, causing Seamus to scowl.

"You know I was too damn drunk to really see who I was with."

"Then maybe you should drink less."

"Cut the moralist talk, I remember you under the table groping Hermione."

"So what. At least she was a girl."

"Yeah. Very funny."

"Don't be such a drama queen, Seamus," Dean sighed when his best friend threw himself on the bed and pretended to strangle himself. "Nothing that terrible happened. You fooled around with a guy, big deal. I bet at least half of those hypocrites who point at you now have thought about trying it but were too scared to actually do it."

"That really helped, thanks," Seamus raised an eyebrow at him, sarcasm dripping from his every word. Dean heaved another sigh – the Irish boy was sometimes really hard to deal with, especially when it concerned his personal pride.

"Okay, it is weird and awkward, so what. Everyone laughs at you now, but I bet that a week or two later they will pat your shoulder and drink with you again. They will forget, and occasionally throw a stupid joke at you. You think you have it bad? Look at Nev. Really, I never thought wizards were so narrow-minded when it came to homosexuality."

"I'M NOT a homo-" Seamus started, but Dean interrupted him with an impatient wave of his hand.

"It's not all about you. There's Nev..."

"He was dead drunk, just like me," Seamus said abruptly and Dean rolled his eyes. Nothing makes people see less than when they don't want to see.

"And how do you know that?" Dean asked slowly, giving Seamus a raised eyebrow to make him realize. Even if Seamus pretended to be blind, Dean knew he wasn't stupid. After a few seconds, Seamus frowned, apparently beginning to comprehend the hint in Dean's remark.

"What the hell are you trying to say?"

"I'm not saying anything. The only thing I know for sure is that I never saw Neville drinking more that a beer or two and it would be foolish to just overlook this fact saying that he made an exception and got pissed that night."

"So he..." Seamus looked at Dean pleadingly, as if he wanted to hear that it was just another prank.

"Probably, yes. I don't think he'd suck your dick just out of pure generosity," offered Dean and watched Seamus' face light up with understanding. Sometimes, smacking his friend over the head with truth was the only possibility to make him see it.

"... oh," was the only answer the Irish boy was capable of, in his state of staring-at-nothing-looking-dumbfounded, and Dean lifted an eyebrow at him:

"Don't tell me it hasn't occurred to you before."

According to Seamus' flabbergasted grimace and his wide eyes, Dean knew the answer even without words. That was probably good, as it would take slightly longer for Seamus to regain coherent speech.

"It didn't," Dean sighed, "really, Seamus..."

"I thought he was drunk too, okay?" Seamus managed and raised his hands apologetically, "I never imagined..."

"That your friend is gay? Come on. Don't tell me you're just as prejudiced as Ron and all the other idiots. Neville has it harsh enough without you bashing him as well."

"You certainly sympathize with him a lot," Seamus growled, annoyed with his friend for being right and with himself for not seeing the obvious.

"What?!" Dean raised an eyebrow at him, disbelief in his voice.

"...nothing, just..."

"You wonder if I don't swing that way, too?"

"You... you do?"

That uncertainty in Seamus' eyes made Dean sigh once more, and shake his head.

"You know, I really want to say YES right now just to see your expression... but no, I am not gay, if you wanted to hear this. I just know how hard they have it, even in more tolerant Muggle society. One of my step-brothers, Eric, is gay, you know."

"You never mentioned it." A slight disapproval hidden in his voice somehow ticked Dean off.

"Why should I? It's his personal life."

"I know, I know... but... how is he?"

Dean shrugged, thinking a bit. Actually it surprised him that Seamus was curious about his gay brother: he expected comments like the ones directed at Nev and sometimes even Seamus himself. _Well, maybe that pride of his is actually good for something_, Dean thought as he answered:

"Pretty normal. There are many prejudices about gay people, but you know, many are just plain stupidity. I don't know many homosexuals, just my brother and his boyfriend - and I think Neville now - but they are just like us. Well... with my brother and his lover, the thing about caring for their looks is true, but other than that... it's load of crap."

"Uh-huh... is it true that... they sleep around a lot?"

"Just like the "normal" men," Dean grinned, Seamus' sudden curiosity about this topic amusing him a lot.

Seamus sighed and turned his look away from Dean to stare out of window. The Quidditch practice visible from the Gryffindor Tower gave him an excuse for prolonged silence, until he finally settled his racing thoughts down a bit.

"I don't really mind gay people... and considering the environment I grew up in, it's a miracle. You know how my Mom is."

Dean remembered that one time he visited Seamus and the tall, harsh-faced woman with army-like manners. She certainly didn't seem the tolerant type.

"Yes... my folks are more accepting now 'cause of Eric."

Seamus' look turned to the ceiling. "If I came to my mother and told her I was gay, she'd use Avada immediately."

"It can't be that bad... you're her only son, she'd put up with it."

"Did you see Ron's face that morning? And Weasleys are a tolerant family, considering wizarding standards. My Mom's _much_ worse."

"Good thing you're not gay, then, huh?" Dean grinned, but the seriousness on Seamus' face froze the smile on his lips immediately. Something was amiss. Seamus' face was slightly red and he stared at the ceiling intently, when he whispered:

"I'm not that sure now."

Dean gaped. Then, Dean gaped some more – he always thought Seamus was just a step away from being homophobic with that don't-mind-homosexuals-as-long-as-they-don't-cross-my-path attitude. And being wrong about people wasn't that usual for Dean. Hence it took more than just a few seconds to adjust to the idea of Seamus considering being gay and close his mouth. Only to open it again in a more productive way:

"You were pretty sure just a minute ago if I recall correctly."

"I wanted to be, yes. But... I liked it, Dean. It might be just curiosity or hormones or whatever, but I don't feel as disgusted as I should at the idea of having another man in bed with me. Weird, yes, but not... not gross."

"Remember that you were drunk that night. Most probably you liked it because you thought it was a sexy girl."

Yes, that seemed more probable with Seamus Finnigan, who had the concept of womanizing woven directly into his flesh and bones. He hadn't exactly slept with hundreds of women... but hey, it was the effort that counted.

And now that very Seamus sat up on his bed and glared at Dean:

"Hey... for ten minutes you try to convince me that gay is not that bad and when I say I might be just that, you change your opinion?"

"I never told you to actually BE gay, Seamus. Don't make stuff up," Dean ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with how his friend could twist anyone's words for his purpose. _The devil can cite scripture, is it..._

"There _is_ that possibility, you know."

"Yes, there is. But... don't do anything stupid, Seamus."

"Like what?"

"Like screwing Nev just to discover that you're not really gay."

Seamus glowered. Dean knew it was not a good sign, but this needed to be said, he knew it did. Even if Seamus didn't like it very much, seeing how affronted he looked. But for Nev's sake, for Seamus' sake and for the sake of Dean's own sanity it had to be said, so Dean wouldn't have to feel guilty if something "stupid" happened. And as Dean knew his Irish roommate well enough, he was pretty sure that it wasn't as much a question of "if" as a matter of "when" with Seamus.

"You think I'd do that?"

"Yes, I do, and you know you would. You thought about it, didn't you? The curiosity you mentioned."

Seamus' guilty grimace said it all before he could:

"...yes, okay... I did think about it. But I wouldn't do it, right?"

Dean released the breath he'd been holding. He expected far worse reaction from Seamus, but maybe his friend was an adult all right now...?

"I hope. Seamus... gays are just like "normal" men. They don't fuck everything that happens to cross their way... well, not all of them. And Nev – you can tell only by looking that he isn't cut out for that. He would want more than just sex and-"

"-and what? You think I can't give him that? You think I will fuck one of my best friends and then just tell him to fuck OFF because I am not gay and I only wanted to try it? Thank you a lot, Dean."

Seamus, theatrically offended and gloriously pouting, ran out of the room and the door almost left with him as he slammed it shut with a loud bang. Dean sighed – he was right to have assumed a bad reaction from Seamus. When the Irish boy set his mind on something, nothing could stop him... _ Darn his pride. I hope that idiot doesn't do anything rash._

~*~*~*~*~*~


	2. Chapter 2

After the argument with Dean, Seamus somehow opened his eyes and what he saw didn't make him happy at all.

Most of the people already stopped throwing lame jokes at him and with the exception of some pure-blooded conservatives, no one glared at him anymore. But for Neville, the situation was different and Seamus cursed himself mentally for not seeing it sooner. Not only didn't pranks subside with time, but it seemed that those ill-natured idiots got more creative – and daring – with every day.

When Neville stumbled into the Potions classroom ten minutes late, dishevelled, his lower lip bleeding and Snape sneered at him, taking thirty points from Gryffindor for "unnecessary violence and interrupting the lesson", Seamus decided it had to stop.

Seamus had always been a righteous guy – he was a Gryffindor, after all – and he would most probably have helped if any of his friends were being bullied like that, but he felt a bit responsible for this particular situation. That was why he overcame the uneasiness he felt when he was near Neville for the last week and smiled at him reassuringly at the dinner.

Neville seemed surprised as he returned the smile experimentally and Seamus felt a bit hurt at the disbelief shown in Nev's eyes.

_First stage accomplished,_ Seamus thought as he returned to his plate, waiting for the opportunity to speak his mind.

Suddenly a sausage came flying and landed in Neville's soup with a loud splash, covering the front of Nev's robes with noodles and veggies. Seamus turned around only to find Malfoy looking at them with an arrogant grin. The blonde blew him a mocking kiss and continued chatting with his sidekicks.

"I'm so gonna kick his ass one of these days," Seamus snarled through gritted teeth and turned back to see Neville calmly spelling his robes clean as best he could, without saying a word. His apathy somehow irritated Seamus more than Malfoy's inane sense of humour. For his Irish mind it was beyond all comprehension why someone would just quietly take all that shit without exploding at least once and hexing someone into the next century.

"Why do you put up with it?" he asked, trying to force the disapproval out of his voice and not succeeding completely. And Neville's answering smile was so weak that it pissed him off even more.

"Because I'm the freak here."

"You're not...!" Seamus exclaimed, gaining a condemning look from people sitting near them. "You're not a freak," he continued, keeping his voice down a little, "and if I were you, I'd kick their asses."

"Well, I won't," Nev shrugged and took a piece of cake from the large plate before them. Seamus couldn't ignore how the girl sitting opposite them changed her mind quickly and reached for something else instead, and he frowned at her before turning to Nev once again.

"I don't get it, why..."

"It won't solve a thing. Even if I were capable of fighting them, which I'm not, they would just get me back for it and things will get worse."

"Isn't it at least worth trying?"

"I don't think so. Really, Seamus, what can they do? I already heard all jokes about my surname there could possibly be and there isn't much they could dye pink and be original anymore. It's not like I was popular before. And there are only a few months until school ends."

"That doesn't mean you have to endure all this."

Neville just looked at him for a moment and Seamus shifted uncomfortably. He felt as if Nev could see down to the depths of his guilty heart when he smiled and shook his head:

"Look, Seamus, I'm glad that you and Dean are still my friends... despite all this. But let it be, ok?"

With that, Nev turned and paid attention only to his dessert and Seamus knew that he considered the conversation finished. But still, Neville's quiet acceptance didn't make him feel any better, as didn't the realisation how much his and Dean's friendship meant for Neville. Just remembering how awkward he felt around Nev for the past week, Seamus' guilty conscience awoke once again and he glared at his plate, almost making his steak shrink in fear.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A hot shower usually helped Seamus clear his mind, but it didn't work this time. He stood under the stream of steaming water and desperately tried to tell himself that Neville was okay with all that so he didn't need to worry, but contrary to popular belief, Seamus wasn't socially disabled where it didn't concern women-hunting and he recognized a worried person when he saw one. Because of that, his feeble self-persuading attempts didn't help at all.

Especially not when the object of his worry entered the showers and was immediately greeted with sneers and rude comments whispered loudly enough to be heard by all.

"What, Longbottom, came to "polish your wand"?" Ron's grin was worth a Malfoy and Seamus really despised him at that moment. Now when he knew what to look for, he saw that Neville's ignorance was just a mask – if the tremble of his hand when he reached for the water tap was any indication.

"Cut it, Ron, we all do it," Dean said warningly.

"Yes, we do, but you don't look at me while you do it!"

"I doubt you're worth looking at, Weasley," Seamus spoke finally, only half-joking, and wanted to wink at Neville, but the boy wasn't looking at him – in fact, it seemed that Nev was seriously considering fleeing from the showers somewhere far away.

"Standing up for your new boyfriend, Finnigan? Literally?" Ron sneered at him and along with the image of Neville's trembling shoulders it was enough for Seamus' Irish blood to boil.

"So what if I am, Weasley? What's your fuckin' problem?"

"MY problem?! _I'm_ not a goddamn faggot, Finnigan; it's not _me_ who's got a problem here! I'm telling you, he's been weird since the school started!"

"Maybe he already knew what a narrow-minded bastard you are!" Seamus yelled and Ron's face turned red with rage. He stepped closer and if they weren't both naked, he would have definitely grabbed at Seamus' collar.

"What did you call me?!" Doubtfully, he eyed Seamus. "Don't tell me you're as sick as this..."

He never finished. Seamus' fist connected with Ron's jaw with force that surprised even Seamus – he didn't really intend to hit Ron. Hearing the insults focused on him didn't anger Seamus as much as watching Neville's shaking shoulders and faked indifference to all the shit he was getting and suddenly his fist went flying and the force of the hit threw Ron back a few steps.

The redhead touched his hurting jaw and glared at Seamus with revolted sneer:

"I never thought you of all people... then I'll leave you two lovebirds alone, don't worry."

With that, Ron left, followed by Harry, who was trying his best not to see all of what was happening right in front of him and only welcomed the opportunity to leave – when it came to opposing Ron, Harry had always been a bit too soft. Perfectly understandable when one knew how quick Ron was to jump to wrong conclusions and flare up in useless anger – but still, Seamus felt a bit disappointed that Harry's "saving-people thing" was only activated when faced with grave danger and didn't extend to social sphere.

Before Dean left too, he threw Seamus a reproachful look.

"It's okay to stand up to idiots, but you're taking it to extremes."

Seamus didn't reply, just shrugged and watched his friend leave. He didn't really expect to be praised, but a bit more understanding would be nice. In the end, he didn't do it for himself.

That reminded him of the only one who stayed back in the shower with him. He looked at Neville, unsure of what to do or say, but the other boy solved it for him and made the first move. Neville turned around, his face just as red as Ron's was, and Seamus understood that he had been shaking from anger, not fear or hurt. His eyes were full of embarrassed tears as he shouted in trembling voice:

"Why are you doing this?! You're only making it worse!"

"I want to help you," Seamus shrugged, trying to make it better and only enraging him more, as Neville laughed bitterly and glared:

"I don't need your help - I'm not a goddamn girl, Seamus!"

"You're not? It really didn't seem so that night!" Seamus smirked wryly and Neville stared at him disbelievingly; hurt in his eyes more than anything woke Seamus up. For a split second, he thought he was going to be punched – and wouldn't really argue with that-, but Neville only looked to the ground and left, hissing:

"Fuck you, Finnigan..."

"YOU WISH!" Seamus shrieked before Neville's back disappeared from his view. Only when he was left alone did he come to his senses and his fist hit the wall. Sharp pain shot up his wrist, but it wasn't the reason of the hiss he gave a second later. Neville's indifference pissed him off a lot more than Ron's attitude – not all people were absolutely open-minded and understanding, okay, that Seamus could cope with. But the very idea of someone so masochistically passive when it came to his own defence only to keep a low profile, that was something Seamus couldn't grasp.

And then, completely uncalled-for, a memory sprang to his mind, a memory of a fourteen-year-old chubby boy, chatting with his friends one of those long celebration-tasting nights, right after the second task of Triwizard Tournament, after Harry had thanked him for telling him about that plant one more time.

"You know, Harry is the hero here. He's good at saving the day... I just try not to make trouble for people around me."

Then, it struck Seamus that even though that boy wasn't so chubby anymore and his whole personality had turned from gawky and awkward to kind and heart-warming long ago, the main point behind his whole behaviour was still _not to make trouble for others_, just as it had been for all these years.

The sad insight made Seamus clench his teeth to the point of pain and strike the wall one more time, though without any real force behind the motion.

"Damn..."

Dean had been right when he had said his pride would kill him one day.

~*~*~*~*~*~

If Seamus had a faint feeling of satisfaction that the harassing would stop, the cruel truth smacked him in the face soon enough – in fact, as soon as he didn't see Neville for the whole weekend and realized that he wasn't even sleeping in the dorms. If Ron made some comments about it, he made damn sure that Seamus wasn't in hearing distance.

On Monday, Seamus was actually relieved when he saw Neville's hunched back in front of him in the classroom, but the relief left him very quickly when, while collecting homework, a spell brushed past him and a minute later he heard McGonagall disciplining Neville over his "very... specific artwork that doesn't belong on the research paper over animagi".

He tried to catch Neville to apologize, but the boy must have somehow acquired an Invisibility Cloak, because besides the classes he was nowhere to be seen. After a whole day of searching, Seamus became desperate, got angry at himself and his stupid classmates and gave up.

And Ron (apparently reassured by the weekend without further violence) sneering at him didn't really help his mood.

"I want you to stop it. Now," he glared at Ron, who played innocent and blinked at him:

"Stop what?"

"You know damn well what I mean, Ron. Stop bothering Neville," Seamus growled and stepped closer to the redhead's bed, watching Ron's reaction. A raised eyebrow, then frown, and finally, a question in his eyes. Seamus realized that Dean had been right – for him, it would have been easy. Even if Seamus stood up for the bullied, he would never be the centre of insults as much as Neville was.

"Don't tell me you're really okay with... it."

"Maybe I'm not exactly okay," Seamus admitted, "but I won't start hating one of my best friends just because he's gay.

"_Just_ because?" Ron seemed like he couldn't believe his ears, "Seamus, are you crazy? He doesn't see us as just "friends" – you of all people should get my point. That's why I'm not going anywhere near him."

At that, Dean closed the book he was reading with a loud noise.

"You are the one who's crazy, Ron. He's had seven years full of opportunities to jump you and he hasn't so far. Why the hell would he do that now?"

Ron didn't seem very convinced.

"He didn't jump Seamus for seven years, either. And now, he-"

"Shut up, Ron. I was dead drunk and made a mistake, so what. It was my fault as well."

"He took advantage of you when you weren't sober. And you want me to stay in the same room as him?!"

"He didn't take... hell, Ron, this is Nev we're talking about. He's more innocent than any of us. He couldn't take advantage of anyone even if he wanted to."

Seamus sighed – nothing was truer than that. Neville couldn't take advantage of anyone; most of the time he was the one taken advantage of, and Seamus, ashamed, felt this was also the case.

"That's what you think," Ron rolled his eyes, still sure about his own logic. "Maybe he was deceiving us all along."

"For seven years?!" Dean exclaimed and Seamus smirked despite his anger – his friend looked very much like he would throw that book at Ron if the redhead didn't stop being a _block_head sometime soon.

"So what. You-Know-Who also deceived all the people around him for a long time."

"You can't be fuckin' serious!" it was Seamus who almost threw something at Ron this time. "Are you listening to what you are saying, Ron? You just compared one of your friends, the one that saved your ass several times, to Lord Fuckin' Voldemort!"

"Don't say that-"

"I will say his name as much as I want, because it's not nearly as frightening as the fact that your friendship depends on if I sleep with right people!"

"This is not about you, Seamus," Ron shook his head at him and Seamus once again felt the unfairness of it all.

"It goddamn well _is_ about me, Ronald. If I say I am gay too, will you stop talking to me? Will you want me out of this room and out of your life? Will you want me crucified just because I fuck men?!"

"Now, you're being a bit too melodramatic here, Seamus..." Dean's reassuring hand came to rest on his shoulder as Dean stood up to support – and cool down – his friend. Allowing Seamus to fume too much meant seeing his fists flying once more and that definitely wouldn't help.

Ron crossed his arms over his chest:

"But you're _normal_, Seamus. You date girls, just like us."

"So what? Maybe I just want to hide something. Will you hate me for what I am?" Seamus threw at Ron, but didn't shake Dean's hand off of his shoulder, which meant that he managed to get his anger under control. For now.

"You know, I am really starting to hate this conversation..." Ron shifted uneasily under the weight of Seamus' ugly smile. Calmly enraged Seamus was even more horrifying than when he was aggressively furious, and his legendary petrifying looks almost made people wish that he'd take the physical measures.

"Because it might lead to another one of your so-called friends coming out? What would you do if Harry was gay, Ron?"

The Chosen One finally looked up from the book he was pretending to read, trying his best not to hear the conversation up till now.

"Hey!"

"See? He's not. He... couldn't be. Harry's dating my sister; he's not a goddamn queer!" Ron seemed almost hysterical to prove his point (which might have been induced by the said Finnigan's Fierce Frown™) when Dean threw the cold facts at him:

"Neville dated Ginny too, if I remember correctly. For about a month, in our fourth year. Went to Yule Ball with her."

"Yeah, now I remember..." a scowl followed, "that damn hypocrite..."

"It's not his fault. I think he didn't know about his preferences then, either. Maybe Nev started to feel something was wrong around that time, so he tried to do something... Dating girls doesn't prove as much as you'd like, Ron."

In the name of "the best defence is the offence", Ron glared at the black boy suspiciously:

"You know awful lot about queers, Dean."

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, already prepared for that particular argument from his conversation with Seamus, who was, surprisingly enough, the one who got pissed off by Ron's remark.

"Stop talking to him, Ron. Maybe he's "queer" as well," Seamus pulled a grimace of mock horror, which resulted in another of Ron's glares.

"One of my brothers is gay, too, so I know how he felt," Dean explained before it could turn into another unreasonable fight. "It must be hard for Nev now, Ron. So don't make it worse than necessary."

"You make it sound as if I was the only one to do all those things!"

The stern looks from both Seamus and Dean made Ron shrug and look down to the floor.

"I admit I did one or two pranks... but hey, we've done it all the time and there were no problems! You two teased Neville as well, just in the last year I remember how you-"

"-don't try to talk yourself out of this, Ron. You know that it's different. Yes, we always made fun of Nev, also of you, me, Harry... everyone. But this isn't the same."

Ron opened his mouth, but Dean continued what Seamus had begun:

"People are hurting Neville and they do it intentionally, to make him feel that he's different. And he's not. He's our friend... isn't he?"

A levelled look from Dean turned Ron beet-red in a second. Seamus hoped it was because he realized his mistakes, but wasn't naive enough to believe it until Ron mumbled:

"...yes, he is."

"And one so-called prank like that from a friend hurts many times more than if he was attacked just by usual Slytherins. Nev needs our support now, Ron, and if you're not willing to show your friendship now, at least don't make him feel bad." With that, Dean sat down and opened his book once again and Ron looked embarrassed, but didn't make any comments again and to Seamus, it seemed like a silent agreement to tolerate Neville without any greater problems. Mentally, he thanked Dean for settling things without the not-so-much-necessary violence _he_'d have restored to for sure, and threw himself onto his bed, grinning into his pillow.

Things were finally looking up a bit.

~*~*~*~*~*~

His good luck extended to the next evening when his attempts to find Neville started showing some results. Professor Sprout accidentally asked him to help her carry a few boxes to the greenhouse – and besides the plants that tried to bite through the walls of boxes and get to his hands, he found Neville, standing in the middle of all that dangerous greenery and watering something that obviously wanted to have his feet for dinner.

Seamus mentally kicked himself for not thinking about this place sooner – if there was a place that could be called Neville's sanctuary at Hogwarts, it were definitely the greenhouses. Furthermore, this specific greenhouse was the safest if one wanted to be alone – with all the dangerous things planted here, no one ever showed up after the lessons. It wasn't even used by any desperate couples who needed to spend some quality time together – who would want to risk getting bitten by something poisonous in some interesting places?

Seamus looked around, making sure that no green teeth were in his way, and put the boxes down on the ground. He saw Neville turning, frowning in his direction and returning back to his work. Clearly, he was still angry with Seamus – and Seamus wasn't that shocked when he considered what he had said in the heat of argument back then.

"Hey," Seamus spoke tentatively and as he didn't get any answer, he remembered Dean's words.

_A thing like that hurts a hundred times more from a friend._

He sighed and stepped closer, carefully avoiding a vicious stem of biting blossoms hanging from the ceiling. "Look, Nev, I'm sorry for what I've said. I was furious and spat it out without thinking."

No response again, and Seamus had some time for further observations as he decided to give Neville a moment or two to process the apology. He was only slightly surprised when he spotted a messy iron bed in the far corner of the greenhouse, just out of the reach of cackling cactuses.

"So you're staying here now?" Seamus more stated than asked, not really expecting an answer anymore and remembering what it was that made him search for Nev. What he wanted to say in the first place. "You can come back to the dorms, Ron won't bother you anymore... at least I hope. Dean and I told him clearly that-"

Surprisingly enough, that got more reaction from Neville than any apology. But it wasn't exactly what Seamus had expected – he was taken aback by the anger that flared at him from Nev's eyes when he turned around:

"I don't need your help, Seamus! I told you I'll be okay by myself."

"Everyone needs friends, don't you think?" Seamus voiced his thoughts, as he couldn't understand what made Nev so furious. If he were in Neville's shoes, he'd be glad if someone stood up for him.

But Neville obviously didn't feel that way. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared:

"I think that you are just feeling guilty because of that night. And you know what: I don't need your pity!"

"Wait, wait, what?! So it's my fault? Damn, Neville, I didn't know! I thought you were a girl!" Seamus raised his hands into the air in the gesture of helplessness. He really tried to help Neville, and hearing that it was _his_ fault wasn't really the kind of satisfaction he had expected.

Neville just waved his hand (and almost got stung by a violent violet growing nearby) and turned his face away, the face that Seamus deciphered as embarrassed and upset.

"Yeah, yeah... sorry I'm not. I don't fit the image of the perfectly straight womanizer you are."

"What?! Nev, I'm sorry, ok?" Seamus was getting a bit desperate as he got the feeling that this wasn't all about those few not very nice words he had blurted out in the showers, "you're one of my best friends..."

"Would you stop repeating that?" Neville flipped out at him, but quickly focused on the watering again and quietened his voice a little, "I know. I know you're my_ friend_ and I was an idiot, ok? So leave me alone and let me suffer for my naivety in peace."

The sarcastic emphasis of the word _friend_ didn't exactly calm Seamus' racing thoughts down and it didn't really help that he had no idea what Neville meant by that.

"Naivety... what are you talking about?" he asked outright, wanting to set things straight immediately, but Neville just shrugged, apparently not being in the mood to explain anything. Or simply being himself and not wanting to cause trouble... again.

"Nothing. Go away, Seamus..."

"No, I want you to tell me what the bloody hell you are talking about, so tell me!"

"No! Leave me alone!"

"Neville! Tell me!"

Neville obviously wanted to escape this conversation and also tried to – but as Dean had pointed out many times, when Seamus wanted something, he didn't stop until he achieved it. And now he wanted like hell to understand why Neville was blaming him more than he deserved (in his opinion). He reached Neville in just a few steps and turned him around, grabbing his shoulders so Nev couldn't turn away and looked at him sternly. Or at least he wanted to, but the sudden closeness made his expression soften a bit. Seamus lowered his voice and almost whispered:

"You have to tell me."

Neville blushed and, forced to look Seamus in the eye, he did so, he looked up from the ground he had been hypnotising the last few seconds and bore his eyes into Seamus, large, blue and shining eyes that startled Seamus with their intensity and made him release his grip on Neville's trembling shoulders immediately.

Then, the spell of the moment was gone and Neville averted his gaze to the ground again, murmuring.

"Leave me alone, Seamus. It's for the best."

With that, he left so quickly that he could have Disapparated and Seamus stood there, still stunned by what he had seen, what he had felt in that split second when he held shivering Neville in his arms, Neville with soft blue eyes, deep and kind and reflecting the last sunrays of the day that made even his pale skin glow; reflecting something that Seamus couldn't understand. It scared the hell out of him, not because he didn't know what Neville was thinking, but because he didn't know what he himself was thinking (and feeling) anymore.

And he wasn't that sure that he wanted to know.

~*~*~*~*~*~


	3. Chapter 3

Before he finally got back to their room he had already managed to somehow settle his thoughts – by not thinking about it at all. But when he found the room empty except Dean reading on his bed, he realized that the opportunity to talk – to confess his thoughts – wasn't going to repeat itself in the near future, as Harry and Ron were going to come back from the Quidditch practice soon.

Seamus threw himself down on Dean's bed, almost landing in the open box of chocolates, and when his friend saved his snacks with a slightly scolding look, he made himself at home and stared at the ceiling.

"That's it. I'm definitely going mad."

Dean's eyes never left the book as he grinned: "You were mad to start with. What happened?"

"I almost kissed Neville a while ago," Seamus announced and that made Dean's book drop onto his knees, his friend eyeing him unbelievingly. And suspiciously.

"Say what? I asked you not to do anything stupid."

"I know, I know..." Seamus sighed, "technically, I did nothing."

"You tried and he refused you?" guessed Dean, with a pitying grin already curling his lips upwards.

"No."

"He wanted a kiss and _you_ refused?"

"No."

Frustrated, Dean threw the book away and Seamus could see he was trembling with impatience:

"Then what?!"

"I just... looked at him," Seamus was aware of how stupid it must have sounded the second he voiced it, but it was the truth and he really couldn't see any other way to put it.

"I'm afraid I don't get it. You look at him for seven years. That doesn't qualify as 'almost kissed him', not at all."

"Yeah, but now, I_ looked_, if you know what I mean," Seamus looked at Dean pleadingly, wishing that he would understand without words, but there was apparently no telepathy scheduled for that evening as Dean shook his head:

"I don't. Now I see what you meant when you said you're going mad. You're even harder to understand than usual."

Seamus sighed, seeing that he needed to explain thoroughly, and tried to collect his racing thoughts for a minute before he spoke again:

"I went to tell him Ron won't bother him anymore, that he can return to the dorms. We argued, he said something... he wanted to run away without answering me, so I stopped him... and suddenly, he was too close and... Dean, I swear, I'm not gay, I still desire girls... but at that moment, I thought he was really... I don't know. Nice. Handsome. Hot, even... And then he blushed and ran away and told me to leave him alone... and that's why I'm losing my mind. So help me."

"I only do miracles on Sundays."

Seamus could only stare at him and Dean sighed, seeing that jokes obviously weren't going to improve Seamus' grave mood.

"Sorry. So you say you still like girls, but now, Nev... I dunno..." he went silent for a while before he came up with a reason that seemed probable enough, "maybe you're bi?"

"What?" a reply came, along with wide eyes, and Dean sighed again. People with pure-blood upbringing were unbelievably uninformed when it came to the matters of sex.

"Bisexual. Maybe you don't just like girls _or_ boys, maybe you like both?"

Seamus thought about it for a second, then gave him a doubtful look:

"Is that even possible?"

"Yeah, in Muggle world it's pretty common."

The possibility seemed to catch Seamus' attention.

"How do I know?"

"Just now, you told me that you wanted to kiss Nev, so I think-"

"Can I kiss you?"

"-that probably you are... WHAT?"

Seamus' words took a while to sink in, and even then Dean wasn't sure if he'd heard correctly, so he just stared.

"Can I... kiss you?" Seamus repeated, a faint blush creeping to his cheeks, and Dean had hard time thinking about something to say and not to stare in disbelief.

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"I want to know if it would feel weird with another man. If I don't just want Nev because of what we already did that night. If I'm really that... what you said."

"Bisexual," Dean sighed. He was reassured a bit by Seamus' words, by the knowledge that it wasn't out of some unrequited feelings from Seamus' side that he wanted to try it. Dean himself didn't really care for things like this, but Seamus seemed determined, which meant he wouldn't stop bothering him until he got what he wanted. That thought was followed by another sigh:

"If there's a Heaven, I will definitely go there when I die. Just this one time, ok? If you develop any feelings for me after experiencing my god-like skills in this field, I won't heal your broken heart. Because I'm telling you, I don't desire men in any way possible."

"Done rambling?" Seamus smiled as he noticed Dean's nervousness. Whenever the black boy felt uneasy, he started babbling and tried to hide it with jokes, but Seamus knew him long enough to notice. Mentally, he gave Dean a big thankful hug for what he was doing to help him – Seamus really wouldn't do it if he didn't have to. And he certainly had to – had to know, had to find out, to be sure about himself. Even if that meant torturing his best friend for a little while.

Dean took a deep breath.

"Yes. Let's get it over with."

"I want you to kiss back, not just take it, ok?"

"Shut up and do it!" Dean growled, looking uneasy, and Seamus shifted closer, looking his friend in the face and not really knowing what to do. Their faces drew closer and Seamus could almost feel Dean's breath over his own lips...

Until his friend burst out laughing.

"Glad you're enjoying yourself," Seamus rolled his eyes, sitting back and letting Dean catch his breath again.

"So-sorry... heh... just that... your face... haha... you looked so damn serious...heh..." Dean breathed out, trying to settle down.

Seamus waited patiently until the laughing fit stopped – it was, after all, just another way for Dean to cope with nervousness – and tried again... only to fail for the second time.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Sorry... sorry... hehe..." Dean hardly got any air as he rolled on the bed laughing his ass off and Seamus raised an eyebrow in mock seriousness.

"You know, this is my whole future life we're deciding here. Could you be at least a bit more serious about this?"

As a reply, Dean burst out laughing once more and fell on the bed in another fit.

Seamus gave him time. Enough time in his opinion to calm down, but he didn't want to wait any longer. As Dean suppressed his giggles enough to sit up again, panting heavily, tears of mirth in his eyes and a smile on his lips, Seamus kissed him deeply, catching him unaware. At first, he wanted to pull back, but he needed to be sure and when he stopped thinking that it's Dean he's kissing, he deepened the kiss and enjoyed the responses he was getting. Dean seemed surprised at first, but then apparently remembered his friend's plea to respond and returned the kiss as best he could, even placing a hand around Seamus' waist.

Neither of them registered the loud footsteps drawing near until the door burst open and a scream echoed in their ears.

"What the fuck?!" Ron bellowed, making them jump back from each other and stare at him, Harry and Neville blankly.

"Filthy hypocrite!" Nev yelled a second later and ran away without even waiting for an explanation.

Not that Dean or Seamus really tried to explain when they saw Ron's look.

"If this is a contagious disease, I _don't_ want to catch it," the redhead commented to Harry weakly, with despair in his eyes. Both Quidditch players left immediately, eyeing the two friends sitting on the bed suspiciously and not even bothering to change their mud-streaked Quidditch robes.

"This will be one bitch of a situation to explain," Seamus threw Dean an apologetic look, then smiled weakly, "I'll tell them the truth."

"You want to be bashed like Neville? Don't. Luna, Merlin bless her, will believe me even if I told her that I got a Hungarian Horntail stuck in my throat and you were trying to remove it. She won't be mad at me... and what anyone else wants to believe is not my problem."

Seamus suddenly felt the urge to laugh, but it was weak and he suppressed it with only a smile. Dean positively shone when he talked about his relationship and Seamus was happy for him, even if a little bit envious.

"You're happy to have such an understanding girlfriend."

"Yeah... but, what is more important - how did you feel?"

"Never ask a woman how you were in bed," Seamus winked and got a pillow and a reprimanding look thrown at him:

"Idiot."

"How did _you_ feel?"

"This is not about me. There's no point-"

"-there is," Seamus interrupted his protest, "I need to know how it felt for you... for a normal guy."

"...I don't really know," Dean said slowly after a second of thinking, "at first it was weird a lot, but then, I just imagined Luna instead of you and it was kinda normal. And you?"

"I thought so... that you imagined a girl," Seamus' grin only widened when Dean blushed slightly – as if apologetically.

"Sorry."

"No, it's okay. Actually... I knew because you were a bit forceful. Not too much, just... it didn't feel like kissing a girl who would give in after a while. I... well, I kinda liked not being the stronger one for a while," now it was Seamus' turn to blush, and he did so fiercely, until he resembled a tomato. It wasn't every day that he admitted liking a guy's kiss, after all. "It was... new."

"So I'm that good?" Dean grinned sheepishly and Seamus, returning the grin and still a bit red, threw a pillow back at Dean's head. Then he got serious for a moment.

"Thanks, Dean. You're the best friend I could wish for."

"I know. You owe me one. But I still think you should get things straight with Nev. No pun intended," he raised his hands quickly as Seamus stared at him at the word _straight_, "By the way, what was that about hypocrisy just a moment ago?"

"I don't get him," Seamus heaved a sigh, "to think that I always believed him to be simple-minded. And that naivety thing too..."

Dean's questioning look got him to talk.

"In the greenhouse he told me he's paying for his naivety or something like that... I don't understand what he meant at all."

"Talk to him, Seamus. You need to solve this, the sooner the better."

"I know. But I don't think he'll be happy to see me now, not even talk to me."

"Yeah. He looked like a jealous wife just a minute ago," Dean winked at him playfully and got another pillow thrown at his head in mock anger.

"I hate you sometimes. By the way, even if I am bisexual, it doesn't mean me and Nev will be together."

"It doesn't. But it's worth trying nonetheless."

Seamus just shrugged, but Dean caught the competitive glow in his eyes and sighed mentally. _Wasn't I the one who told him not to do anything stupid?_

~*~*~*~*~*~

This time, the greenhouses were definite choice.

"I want to talk," Seamus announced as he saw a familiar back hunched over a table with pots.

"I don't," was the only answer and Seamus sighed mentally. This was going to be harder that he had thought.

"We need to, Nev," he tried again, but was quickly dismissed by the look in Neville's eyes as the boy turned around and glared at him, almost perfectly impersonating Professor Snape.

"No, we don't. Go talk to Dean and stop following me, please."

"Jealous?" Seamus grinned and immediately felt like slapping himself, hard.

"What?!" Neville stared disbelievingly for a split second, then his lips curved in a wry smile and Seamus almost wished for that enraged glower to come back. "Oh, yeah. Feel free to have a laugh at my expense."

With that, Neville turned back to his plants and Seamus thought that there won't be many green survivors today, as Nev's movements were shaky, rash and unfocused.

"I'm sorry," Seamus piped up weakly, knowing it wouldn't help that much but still hoping it will.

Apparently, it was not the right day for high hopes. After a minute of eternity, in which only soft clinking of gardening equipment could be heard, Neville spoke again, his voice strained and quiet at first, but gaining intensity towards the end of his speech.

"For what? For bothering me with your stupid talk? For going through the trouble to tell me you're not gay and then making out with another guy? Or for deceiving me with sweet talk while you were drunk and then making my life a living hell?"

Seamus wanted to answer, really, he did, but that outburst shocked him way too much to be able to do anything but gape. It took him quite a while to process at least the main points of those sentences, a while in which Neville turned slightly red and tried to look like he had much more important things to do, things like watering the Fierce Saffron on the table.

"Umm... actually, I meant _sorry for that remark a moment ago_... but more importantly – what do you mean by sweet talk?"

Neville's face looked like he had wanted to sneer and failed terribly.

"Don't tell me you can't remember. It's a pretty lame excuse, you know."

Seamus blinked, and immediately tried to defend himself, but was cut off before he could even speak properly.

"Please, Seamus. I know when I'm not needed, you don't have to go through all this. Just leave me alone and I will be fine, ok?"

There was something in Neville's voice that made Seamus shiver and want to just go away and not torment the boy with things he himself knew nothing about. But then, there was this silent undertone to his every word that screamed of fear and shock and confusion, and that made Seamus stay and his voice sound firm.

"No. I want to know what this is about. You are my friend-"

Again, he was cut off, but this time, there was no confusion, just pure anger in Neville's face, anger and resignation as he slammed his hands on the greenhouse table and growled at the poor Fierce Saffron plant:

"Will you STOP saying that?!"

Seamus blinked again, beginning to slowly, but steadily feel like he was in a badly directed movie with a poorly written script. He didn't understand a thing anymore... not about Neville. Not about himself. Why would Nev want him to stop saying that he was his friend...?

"No... I... I mean yes, I can... I mean, I care about you, Nev, so tell me-" was what Seamus managed to stutter before a heated glare from Neville stopped him again. And Seamus found himself secretly awed by that expression on Neville's face. To that moment he wouldn't believe anyone who'd tell him that Neville could be so furious, so... passionate.

But Neville's next words brought Seamus back to reality.

"Go to hell, Seamus. I heard enough of your bullshit."

"I still don't understand-"

"No? Should I enlighten you?" this time, the sneer was a success, and even Professor Snape himself wouldn't have to be ashamed of such a sour grimace. Nev's next words had a bad Irish accent and were said in a tone that Seamus feared was mimicking his own voice:

"'I always watch you from afar', 'I can't resist anymore', 'I know it's maybe wrong, but let me...' 'I wanted this for so long' - should I continue?"

Even though he asked, Neville didn't continue, but it didn't matter. Seamus remembered, or more like realized... those words were his own. He had used them many times before, sometimes successfully, sometimes not... his pick-up lines tended to work depending on the level of alcohol in the receiver's blood.

And suddenly, Seamus felt terrible. Those words were a game, a joke, something to get what he wanted. Usually, Seamus knew that the other party took those lies for what they were, and now, to think that someone – that _Neville_ took it seriously... he felt like a lightning struck him in the head and demonstrated to him how childish he had been, how stupid...

In Neville's eyes, there seemed to be disgust as he looked Seamus up and down, the sneer still on his face terribly unbecoming of him:

"Remember? Great. Now get the hell outta here."

It was as if he had woken from a bad dream – into a nightmare. He took just a step towards Neville, desperate to sort it out, to make the other boy understand he wasn't just a damned idiot, even though he knew he WAS:

"No. Nev, you have to understand-"

"I don't have to do anything. Go away and don't make it worse. Please."

At that last word, the sneer finally left Neville's face, but Seamus almost wished it was there. Because seeing Neville speak so quietly, pleadingly, as if he was lost... that made Seamus feel even worse. This was the old Neville, quiet and scared, and at that moment, Seamus' selfishness went to hell. The only reason for sorting this out was Neville.

He stepped even closer and mentally cringed when he saw how the smaller boy's shoulders shook. He didn't know if Nev was trembling from fear or tears or if he was just cold, but he wanted to make him feel better. Neville was a good lad. He didn't deserve an idiot like Seamus tormenting him.

He reached out to touch Neville's shoulder:

"Nev..."

"Stay where you are. Even an idiot like me won't fall for the same thing twice," the bitter reply made the hand freeze in mid-air for a second, but then, it landed softly on Nev's shoulder and squeezed lightly. Neville shuddered, but didn't shake the touch off, and Seamus took it as invitation to say what he needed to say.

"Nev, I know those sentences-"

"You damn well do. I don't need your excuses, so shut-"

The shaking was still there, and his own voice betrayed Neville: it didn't sound anywhere near as cold as he wanted it to, that was for sure. Despite the words, the tone cried 'explain', and Seamus found himself not thinking and stepping even closer. With a slight push, he forced Neville to turn from the table to face Seamus, and he almost took a step back when he saw that Neville's eyes were red and teary.

Nev blushed with what looked like shame to Seamus, and mumbled "I'm just angry at myself for believing you, ok..." before looking away, furiously trying to somehow make the distance between them greater.

But Seamus didn't allow that, desperate to explain himself, and his hand squeezed Neville's shoulder a bit more firmly, the other one coming up to rest on Nev's other shoulder.

"Nev, those are my pickup lines. I used them a lot on girls, and I thought-"

"That I was a girl too, right?" Neville wasn't so horribly quiet anymore, but his voice was unnaturally high, as if the sound itself was blaming Seamus.

"Yeah. I know that it's not a very good excuse, but I was drunk. I would never intentionally-"

Nev looked up from the ground he had been hypnotizing, and the bitterness in those blue orbs fascinated Seamus as much as it scared him.

"You think I don't know that? NO ONE would, intentionally. I'm barely able to graduate from Hogwarts, I'm not a proud, brave Gryffindor, also I'm not good-looking and I'm gay on top of that. No one would."

Yeah, the voice shook, it was high-pitched and horrible, but in some way or another, there was weird power in it, as a power of a cornered animal that acknowledges its helplessness with its head held high, and Seamus felt every single word of that little speech stick somewhere into his soul where it hurt. Because he realized that Neville was right... no one of them, 'proud and brave Gryffindors', had ever made any effort to know Neville better. He was always that quiet boy at the back of their mind, the class embodiment of clumsiness, the one who would endure their 'good-natured' jokes.

It made Seamus sick... the knowledge that they, who called themselves Nev's friends, were no better from those bullies from the past weeks.

"Stop saying that," Seamus pleaded, "I wanted to say that I never would hurt you intentionally. But I'm glad I did."

Those words surprised him as much as they did Neville, but Seamus knew he meant them. The boy's blue eyes went wide and he struggled to get away from Seamus' grasp. But Seamus held him firmly in place, even despite Neville's growls of 'Let me go' and 'Stop it'.

"No. Not until you hear me out. I am glad I was drunk that night, and I did it with you, because if I didn't, I would've never found out one side of myself."

Neville stopped struggling, and on his scared, almost-crying face, the sarcastic smile resurfaced.

"What side? That you like to have your cock sucked by a guy?"

Seamus nodded, suddenly finding it hard to look Neville in the eye, and confirmed it quietly:

"That I like men, too."

Somehow, it was more difficult to admit it to anyone else than to himself. Especially because he had a feeling that he was making it something definite, unchangeable by saying it out loud. But Neville didn't joke about it, nor did he make spiteful jokes about what Seamus had said. He hung his head, his brow furrowed, and spoke just as quietly as Seamus:

"Stop making fun of me. I'm kind of resistant to all the crap others give me, but it still hurts from someone I thought was my friend for seven years."

" I was. I am. And I... if you want... I can..."

He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't... he would never believe he was able to do something like that, something so utterly stupid and unnecessary and weird, but he did, he leaned forward when Neville looked at him with a question in his eyes, and touched the boy's lips with his own, kissed one of his friends, his MALE friends, without being completely drunk... and even managed to feel terribly nervous. Neville was completely stiff and unmoving, possibly from the shock, but Seamus only felt that on the periphery of his mind, which was completely busy with trying to process this new information. It wasn't all that different from kissing a girl, and yet it tasted differently, like the forbidden apple from the Paradise must have tasted different from any other apple in this world.

And then, Neville broke the kiss by pushing hard at Seamus' chest, and his face wasn't teary anymore, it was just shocked and terrified and disgusted, and Seamus didn't have any chance to try and kiss Neville again, because that docile, quiet boy suddenly punched him, and the power of the hit made Seamus stumble a step back.

With wide eyes, Seamus touched his split lip, the taste of blood successfully erasing any aftertaste of Neville's lips, and, his eyes still fixated on the smaller boy, he snarled:

"What the hell..."

"Exactly, WHAT THE HELL, Seamus!" Neville almost yelled, and it dawned on Seamus that he was near hysterical, "is it so much fun, messing with me? You think I didn't see your terrified look when you realized it was me with you that night? You think I didn't see how you tried to avoid me the next few days? I've got news for you - if you want to play around, find someone else. I might be gay, but I'll rather stay untouched for the rest of my life than being the object of your stupid whims!"

With that, Seamus was too shocked to even attempt to stop Neville when the boy turned on his heel and rushed out of the greenhouse.


	4. Chapter 4

"You did WHAT?"

Dean managed to not choke on his pumpkin juice when Seamus confessed his sins to him, but it took some serious effort, and his surprised yell successfully made several students around them glare in their direction. Seamus was still being mocked from time to time about blue sweaters and even though Ron and Harry didn't speak about it, they were giving Dean weird looks too since last evening.

Not that Dean really gave a flying fuck about what those people thought, and Luna took it even better than he expected (probably a bit too well when he considered the fact that she asked him for a little display of making out with Seamus just for her).

Seamus glared at Dean and after a hissed 'shhh', he repeated, trying his best to be as quiet as possible with Dean still hearing him:

"Yeah. I kissed him. And he punched me. And told me that he'd rather stay single for the rest of his life than be with me. The end."

Dean didn't know if he should laugh or cry. His Irish friend looked like an embodiment of life's misery and Dean couldn't quite decide whether it was pathetic, pitiful or just plain funny.

"And what did you expect? That he'll throw himself at you, accompanied by the sunset and the sound of bells? This is not Rosamunde Pilcher, this is reality, mate."

"Rosa-who?!" Seamus raised an eyebrow, but Dean just waved his hand dismissively:

"Just one romance-novel-writer my Mom likes.. nevermind. What I wanted to say is that you can't solve the whole situation just by kissing him. He doesn't trust you, he thinks you're not serious. Surely he'd punch you when you just jump him."

Another raise of a sand-colored eyebrow came in Dean's direction, this time more appraising than questioning.

"You know, you should be a psychologist."

"I just happen to listen to my stepbrother when he's in trouble," Dean shrugged, "and he's in trouble awfully often."

"Like me."

"Almost," Dean grinned at Seamus' puppy-look, "anyway, talk to him more, convince him that you're trustworthy. That you mean it."

Seamus glared at several fifth-years who seemed a bit too interested in the conversation of their upperclassmen, and when the two girls hurried away from the Great Hall under the weight of Seamus' malicious stare, he sighed theatrically.

"I don't know myself if I mean it. I think I want more from him than just friendship, and the more I think about it and watch him, the more I realize what a fine guy he is. And that I won't mind if he wanted more."

This time, Dean was the one to raise an eyebrow. He usually prided himself on understanding Seamus and his chaotic thoughts, but there was only so much a sane person could get from that labyrinth.

"Your mind is a mess, mate."

"You tell me..." fingers ran through the fair hair, making said mess out of Seamus' outward appearance too. "Today, when I saw him with tears in his eyes, I wanted to kick myself for hurting him. And when he started talking about himself like he usually does... he has no confidence, you know how he is... I couldn't resist. I had to kiss him and make it all go away. Make him smile again."

"And you just pissed him off," Dean stated, knowing that a bit of cold reason couldn't hurt Seamus.

"So it seems."

For a minute or two, they both gave their full attention to their plates full of usual delicious Hogwarts food, and Seamus succeeded in persuading his mind that love troubles and an empty stomach had nothing to do with each other. After all, he was still growing.

When cakes and puddings appeared, Dean patted Seamus' shoulder comfortingly.

"...don't worry. You're persistent like hell when you want something and he'll realize sooner or later."

"Thanks," Seamus smiled and looked fine again, or at least a lot better – even though Dean wasn't that sure he wasn't just pretending it. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd go even madder."

~*~*~*~*~*~

The persistent-like-hell strategy was implemented to practical use immediately the next morning, and Seamus hoped it would work.

He gave up on apologizing to Neville, especially when he didn't really feel like saying sorry for a thing for which he didn't feel sorry at all. The feeling of wanting to protect Neville from all bad that could happen to him kind of stayed with Seamus and he didn't even try to push it out of his mind.

So, instead, he looked at Neville thoroughly, observed his every move and tried to learn as much as he could from those observations. Considering that Seamus wasn't used to paying close attention to things like body language, he didn't learn much – but he successfully managed to follow Neville for the main part of the day. Which was quite miraculous – their schedules were almost completely different except for Defence Against the Dark Arts which was compulsory this year for all students.

But nonetheless, Seamus had successfully pursued his goal of looking at Neville the whole morning and afternoon, during school, during lunch and dinner... After several glares Neville had thrown his way when Seamus got too close too obviously (to which Seamus responded with a brilliant smile), Neville obviously had had enough, and when Seamus followed him to his greenhouse refuge again, he confronted him directly:

"Why are you following me around? What do you want?"

Another smile was flashed Neville's way.

"Just to be with you."

Obviously, Persistency Plan needed some readjustments, because Neville just rolled his eyes to that, looking more annoyed than pleased.

"Please be more corny."

"It's not corny, it's true," Seamus pouted slightly, "I just... you know. Realized that I could spend more time with you."

What was corny about that? He was just trying his best to learn things about Neville, right?

"And as usual, you don't give a shit about whether I WANT you to hang around."

"... You don't?" Seamus looked at Neville in a way Dean had called 'kicked puppy look'. What could be so bad about being with Neville? And looking at him? Seamus didn't really understand why Neville seemed so distressed, and why was he sighing as a response to Seamus' grimace.

"I... to be honest, I'm not sure right now. We were never really what you'd call joined at the hip, were we..."

Now, that kind of hurt. Seamus had considered himself one of Neville's best friends, if not the best one, and when he realized he had thought so only because he knew that Neville didn't talk to other people much, not because he knew Neville that well... that hurt, too. And it seemed unfair – towards Neville.

"Time to change that, then," Seamus said resolutely, meaning every single word of that short sentence. He really wanted to know more about Neville, so he would be worthy of calling himself Neville's friend... or something else, one day.

But Neville obviously didn't share his enthusiasm – he glared at Seamus and then sighed, shifting his feet restlessly.

"Seamus, look. If you're doing this just so I'll let you screw me, then please, go away. Go find another gay guy. I can tell that Blaise Zabini from Slytherin is kicking for the same team as me and probably a few others wouldn't mind you doing whatever you'd like to them, so I see no reason-"

"Oh shut up..." it was Seamus' turn to growl and frown. What the hell... was that really what Neville thought about him?! "Is it so hard to believe that someone would just... want to be next to you? Get to know more about you?"

Neville crossed his arms over his chest in what seemed like a protective gesture, and shifted his gaze to the side. He answered after a second or two of uncomfortable silence in which Seamus' questions hung heavy between them.

"Yes. It is."

Seamus growled lightly again, waving his hands in exasperation:

"You and your stupid self-worth issues are completely ridicul-"

"Now you shut up," Neville interrupted him, quietly and coolly, but that felt even worse to Seamus than if he yelled. In that calmness, he could hear that familiar Neville's resignation and acceptance of how people treated him, the same thing that always managed to piss Seamus off, just like now. And Neville continued:

"Tell me, what's so interesting about me that you'd want to hang around me? Do you like plants? Herbology? Because that's about the only thing I can do without failing completely, and I highly doubt that digging in the dirt suddenly seems so exciting to you."

The irony in those words stabbed at Seamus aggressively, because under the sarcasm, there was truth. So Seamus decided to answer with cold reason and truth as well.

"I couldn't care less about herbology. I like you. Just that, okay? I'm not telling you that I fell head over heels for you, I'm not promising eternal love, I just like you, and I wanna spend some time with you to figure out what that means. Is that okay?"

He imagined that Neville would just say 'yes' or 'no' and he could either stay close to him some more or go away and not try anymore... but again, Seamus' knowledge of people proved insufficient to prepare him for every possible answer he could get.

"Seamus..." Neville gave a weary sigh, "you would never even so much as look properly in my direction if... that night didn't happen, so spare me-"

That was enough for Seamus. It was all too complicated, no matter how much he had tried to simplify it. Neville was making it all complicated, and Seamus had had enough. Pissed-off, frustrated and feeling utterly helpless in this matter, he flailed his hands again around himself and scowled at the other boy:

"You know what, Neville? I'm not the one who's preoccupied with that one blowjob you gave me that night. YOU are, and it seems that all you can see in me is that guy whose dick you had in your mouth. I tried. I swear to gods, I tried to get closer to you, but unless you let me, I can't!"

Not waiting for any answer and feeling like a complete idiot, Seamus stormed out of the greenhouse before his anger, and thus his truth-telling bravery, would leave him for good and make him want to apologize.

Not that he didn't feel like returning and apologizing right now... he just lacked the guts to do so, in fear that Neville would tell him to piss off and never talk to him again. That would be understandable...

Dear gods, how was he supposed to write two reports by tomorrow in the state he was in?!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean sighed for about a hundredth time, glaring at his herbology notes, currently covering two joined tables in Gryffindor common room. Not that he had written so much – most of the parchments contained detailed drawings of the plants which he was supposed to learn about. He could always draw pictures that looked kind of alive... and right at that very moment he was deeply regretting his decision to try a mediwizard course instead of Muggle art school.

And to make things worse, he hadn't seen Seamus since Wednesday, when he had advised him about that thing with Neville, so there was nothing he could focus on, no other people's problems he could solve. It was Friday evening and his only problem right now was how much he had to learn in such a short period of time, considerably shortened by the fact that tomorrow was Hogsmeade day.

With a deep sigh he stretched over the table, using most of his parchment rolls as a pillow, and wailed quietly.

"That's it, I give up. My notes suck."

"Don't be silly. I wish I could draw like that," Neville sighed and glanced wishfully at the detailed pictures of plants that looked as if they were just waiting to be watered or cut.

"And I wish I could take notes that actually make sense," Dean sighed, truly envious of Neville's talent with plants. The boy's illustrations were small, messy and resembled their model plants only roughly - if the viewer actually KNEW how that was supposed to look like - but his notes were neat and easy to remember, usually containing large variety of information that weren't even mentioned in class.

Dean looked up at Neville, who was only half-conscious of what was happening around him as a large book on his knees managed to get most of his attention right now, and as always when he was buried in herbology, his expression was relaxed and serene. Dean silently wondered when Neville had turned from a chubby clumsy kid into this pale young man, so thin in contrast to his previous build that it looked even a bit unhealthy on him. With a soft pang of guilt he remembered what Seamus had told him once, that they didn't really know Neville, that they never really tried to know him. Then, he had dismissed it as Seamus seeing things which weren't really there, but now he wasn't so sure. Well... it wasn't exactly normal to not even notice the changes in someone you considered a good friend, changes so visible as the ones that occurred in Neville in the last... what? Year, or two? Maybe three...?

"Nev?"

"Yeah?" Neville didn't even tear his eyes from some exotic and poisonous plant he was studying. It surely wasn't a part of school curriculum – just looking at that book's acid-green cover gave Dean the chills.

"What do you think about Seamus?"

He didn't know why he asked that. Maybe he wanted to make sure that at least one of them managed to penetrate Neville's shell and get to know him, if only by that stupid drunken accident. Miracles could happen sometimes by the weirdest accidents, he had learned that with Luna already.

And maybe his mind just attempted desperately to find other things to think about instead of that goddamn poisonous plants division.

Neville just stared at him for good twenty seconds, without saying anything, and Dean wondered if the boy was deciding what he thought about Seamus, or how to send Dean to hell politely.

It turned out it was the latter:

"Look, if he told you to explore the field and make him seem like an innocent angel, forget it."

Dean rose and sat up properly, because it didn't seem like a casual chat and he couldn't have a serious talk when sprawled on a table.

"He didn't. I think he'd throw a curse or two at me if he knew I told you... but he's pretty desperate."

"He's pretty idiotic in the first place," Neville snorted and returned to his book – but Dean wasn't going to let him brush it off that easily.

"Aren't you a bit too harsh with him? He tried to apologize, he even went to me for advice, made me kiss him to find out if he liked men-"

"What?!" Neville's eyes went wide as he gaped at Dean and he mentally cursed himself... his diplomatic skills had been definitely destroyed by that stupid herbology.

But now that he had blurted that out already, there was no point in trying to take it back. Dean took a deep breath, then a quick prayer to all Irish gods to tame Seamus' temper if he ever found out that Dean told Neville, and spilled the beans:

"That time, when you saw us... he was making fuss about you and how he was going crazy and how he needed to know if it's only you he wants or if he's interested in males in general. So, he asked me, as he very well couldn't ask anyone else."

Dean expected Neville to snort again, and say that it was a pretty fucked-up idea, a stupidity worth Seamus after all.

But the boy didn't – only a massive blush spreading over his face showed that he heard Dean's explanation, and after a few seconds, when all had clicked in his brain, he managed:

"Oh."

"Yes. It didn't mean anything, except that he found out he liked boys as well as girls. You know, Nev... you already know who you are in this matter, but he had to find out first."

This part didn't work nearly as well as the first one, because Neville frowned instead of blushing:

"By tricking me?"

"He's an idiot, but he'd never hurt his friends intentionally," Dean defended Seamus mildly – he knew that Nev was just slightly bitter about the whole thing. He wasn't really pissed-off at Seamus – NO one could stay pissed-off with that crazy Irish guy for long, he was too charming for that.

And just as Dean had expected, Neville sighed and ran a hand through his messy dark-brown hair (which in Dean's opinion needed a decent cut before they started obstructing Nev's vision seriously):

"He said the same thing... I know that. He's a good guy... the problem is he gave me hope and then took it away."

"You mean that night?"

Dean wasn't really sure he wanted to hear an answer to that – he just hoped that Neville wouldn't go into details. There were certain things he didn't really have to know about explicitly and his best friend's genitals in his other friend's mouth was one of those things, disregarding the gender of said friends.

"Yeah. I didn't have a crush on him or anything like that - the most I ever thought was something along the lines of 'he's looking good today' - but when he came to me and told me he always watched me and wanted me, I couldn't think rationally."

Actually it was kind of... cute, the way Neville tried to defend himself, the slight bush on his cheeks, and the quickness with which he declared that he wasn't really interested in Seamus, as if he had expected to get yelled at for that. It was the side of Neville which Dean knew the best, their usual shy, clumsy Neville, who showed up so rarely these days.

"Seamus' biggest problem is that he looks completely sober even if he's pissed," he said sympathetically and smiled at Neville, who returned it with a slightly sour tang.

"Exactly. I thought he's serious, and when I saw his face in the morning, how horrified he was, I wanted to kick his ass. And mine, for being so naive," this time, pale fingers messed up the dark strands even more, and another sigh went towards the parchments.

"Not your fault, Nev. But you know..." Dean hesitated for a split second, not sure if he had the right to say what he was trying to say – but those two needed a kick in the right direction, so Dean took the plunge and continued, "now, he wants you, and he's sober."

"I find it kinda hard to believe anyone would want me seriously. And especially when it's him."

Dean wanted to start a rant on self-worth and self-appreciation, but he didn't, eventually. He himself had sometimes had a hard time keeping up with Seamus' radiant personality when he was younger, and he never was in Neville's shoes, actually considering a _relationship_ with Seamus.

Before he could think of something to say, Neville continued quietly.

"Even when something is telling me he's serious, it still scares the hell out of me. What if he finds out he doesn't like men at all? What if he realizes he really didn't want me? I don't know."

Now, hesitation and insecurity over a new relationship was something Dean could deal with much better:

"Do you want to stay alone for the rest of your life or what?"

"I don't, but-"

"Then you have to take that risk," _and I know what risk is, considering who I'm dating,_ Dean thought privately with a mental grin, "Nev, no relationship begins with one hundred per cent certainty that he won't leave you, or that you won't leave him. I'm not saying it has to be Seamus, but at least consider it. You've known him for seven years, if there's anyone who can make you feel assured now, it's him."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of, Dean. I've known him since I was eleven, he was one of my best friends and that's already ruined," Neville looked up and the desperation in his eyes told Dean that 'friends' were what Neville valued more than his life. Considering how few he could actually call a friend, it was pretty understandable.

"It's not ruined. It's only a crisis - that happens even between best friends."

"Maybe," Neville shrugged, "but I'm still not sure if I want this crisis to end with me and Seamus in some fleeting infatuation and then breaking the bonds completely. You two are most probably my only friends... I'm scared to ruin that."

"The worse that can happen is that you both find out it's not working out and you return back to being friends." Dean wanted to add 'and I'll always be your friend, don't worry' – but that seemed like actually admitting that it wouldn't work out between those two, so he didn't, and just tried to give Neville a reassuring smile.

He received an ironical grin in return:

"Or I'll fall in love with him, he'll find out he's straight and he'll dump me, never wanting to see my face again."

"Or he falls in love with you and you realize you think of him only as a friend," Dean offered, getting a bit frustrated with Neville's inability to see the obvious. He was already used to that from his stepbrothers and from Seamus, that's why he was able to actually speak calmly instead of yelling at the poor boy to get a grip. "Nev, possibilities are still there, but if you don't take the risk, you won't find out. It takes some time and maybe you'll get hurt, but you will find that one perfect man. I don't know if it's Seamus, but you won't know either, if you don't try."

For a while, Neville just glared holes into the parchment spread on the table and Dean thought that Neville was going to send him to hell now for sure.

But the boy just grinned slightly and raised an eyebrow at Dean.

"Great speech," he said, slight sarcasm echoing in his voice which Dean would never think Neville capable of.

"I know," he grinned back with a wink, "always solving other people's problems is starting to show, probably. If only someone could solve this whole herbology thing for me..."

"Here," a thick roll of notes in neat handwriting landed in front of Dean's desperate anti-herbology glare at the table, "consider it payment for counselling."

"I'm so gonna get drunk tomorrow in Hogsmeade if I manage to learn that," Dean sighed and started reading.

~*~*~*~*~*~


	5. Chapter 5

~*~*~*~*~*~

"I fucked up, I fucked up. I. FUCKED. UP!" Seamus howled at the late October sky and Dean sighed as most of the people on the main Hogsmeade street turned their heads to see the reason for that yell.

From the way Seamus looked, it had probably something to do with Neville, and when Dean took yesterday's talk with the boy into consideration, he doubted that Seamus fucked up that bad – yesterday, all looked in favour of the Irish boy, only if Neville gathered the courage to take another step.

But as far as Dean knew Seamus, the boy was able to fuck something up in mere minutes, and that talk with Neville was full fourteen hours away. Enough time for Dean to manage to squeeze some Herbology into his brain, enough time for Seamus to fuck up as much as he wanted.

"What did you do this time?" Dean inquired, interested in the latest development against his will. With the ability to help people solve their problems came a nasty side-effect – actually being _curious _about the lives of others.

"Don't even ask," Seamus whined theatrically, and Dean just shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Okay..."

"Nooo!" Seamus wailed, and Dean heard Luna giggle next to him at that. "Ask, okay, ask... damn, I... told him that he was too focused on that whole blowjob thing. And some other shit. I don't even know why I said that, I guess I was getting frustrated with him..."

Dean rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath to tell Seamus that he really did fuck up by being an impatient idiot, and that he should give Neville time to adjust to the idea, but before he could do that, Luna decided to join the conversation:

"Maybe Mind-hazing Hamrocks attacked you in your sleep, you know."

Seamus' blank expression was completely priceless and Dean couldn't help but chuckle as the boy turned to him, forcing out a helpless 'What?'.

Luna took mercy on those ignorant to certain interesting magical creatures, and explained, while Dean was having a hard time not laughing his ass off.

"Mind-hazing Hamrocks. They're small creatures that can cause temporary madness if you let them get close to you at night."

Seamus glanced at Dean and when he received just a shrug, he sighed:

"Maybe. I certainly feel like they did... I just don't know what to do, or what to say, or what to think... it's never been this complicated with girls."

"Well, you never tried to be serious with girls before, right?" Dean snorted, and got a weak glare from Seamus.

"That's not true. I was serious about Angie McCoughan."

Dean fished in his brain for that name in a drawer labelled 'Seamus' Unsuccessful Conquests' and after a few seconds, he rolled his eyes at the memory:

"She graduated when you were a fourth-year. That wasn't SERIOUS."

"Okay. What about... Padma? Padma Patil then?" Seamus suggested, and Dean waved his free hand, the one not holding Luna's pale fingers in a rainbow-coloured glove.

"You had a bet with Ron that you couldn't actually get her."

"But I got serious at the end."

"No, you just like trying to get what you can't have. Admit it, Seamus, you were never serious. And if you're serious now it'd be a holy miracle."

Dean certainly hoped that miracles like that did happen sometimes. If they didn't, it would be a sad reality slap to both Seamus and Neville, and Dean really thought that those two had their fair share of bad luck.

Seamus pouted, and Luna giggled at his unintentionally funny grimace.

"I was always serious. It just never lasted very long."

"Exactly what I mean. You should think it over properly one more-"

Dean's advice was interrupted by a sudden tug of Luna's hand and when he turned in the direction in which she looked, he saw the subject of their talk approaching them, with a small, uncertain smile that was so typical to Neville that Dean thought for a second that everything was solved already.

"Hi, Neville, how's it going? How are Pachydermatous Parsleys?" Luna chirped and Neville smiled at her as he usually did.

Seamus realized that he never really noticed how warm and kind that smile was – and also how long it had been since he last saw it on Neville's lips. These days, all Neville seemed to do was frown, wince or blankly stare, and Seamus felt a pang of guilt at the thought that maybe Neville only did so for him alone – he seemed to be just fine with Luna.

"Fine, thanks..." he answered, and Seamus suddenly felt fear that Neville would just ignore him. That the reason the boy seemed okay was that he decided to not become involved with Seamus in any way...

In fact, it seemed to be exactly the opposite. When his eyes met Neville's, Nev turned away to look at Dean, but his cheeks coloured lightly as he asked, a smile still playing on his lips:

"Can I borrow Seamus for a second?"

Seamus gaped. This was something he didn't quite expect, even if he hoped for it since a few days ago. Since he said those stupidities to Neville, he waited for a chance to apologize, but he thought that the boy was so upset with him that he didn't want to see him at all, so he waited and...

"Please, get him off our hands, we wanted some privacy and he's- ouch!" Dean glared playfully at Seamus when he got poked in the ribs sharply, and Luna burst into giggles again as Seamus tried his best to look serious.

But how could he be serious when Neville blushed lightly at that and smiled, warmly and kindly as usual, and smiled at HIM, even if it was the briefest of glances in his direction...?

"Okay," Neville nodded and looked at Seamus again, as if saying 'follow me.' Seamus took the clue and, stuffing his hands into his pockets more from nervousness than from the cold, walked next to Neville, his heart beating slightly faster as he didn't know what was to come. Would Neville tell him to never go near him again...? Or would he ask Seamus to please remain friends? Or just to be civil to each other as they couldn't go back to friendship...?

From afar, Dean's voice, excited and loud, carried to them through the still autumn air:

"Did you see that? How they looked at each other?"

Seamus winced as he heard that, certain that it must've ruined his chances with Neville. But the boy just blushed furiously, almost giving off enough heat to warm up the air around them, and Seamus turned, walking backwards and yelling after Dean:

"We can still hear you, jerk!"

There was just a short waving 'whatever' gesture from his friend and Seamus could see that Dean was laughing as he pulled Luna into the nearest cafeteria, probably for a cup of hot chocolate and some rounds of unrestricted making-out in a dark corner.

Seamus turned to walk properly and kept his eyes under his feet, not so much for the fear of tripping and sprawling under Neville's feet – which would be rather humiliating for sure – but more for the fear of what he would see once he looked at Neville. Rejection? Hope for friendship? Disdain for what he had said?

Never being one for patience, he coughed to make sure his voice worked properly, and started.

"So..." it was more difficult than he had imagined, damn. And it took several seconds before he could ask what he meant to: "What did you want to...?"

Seamus couldn't finish the question properly and when Neville took a deep breath, he winced. He didn't want Neville to tell him to go fuck off, or to tell him to forget. Maybe Dean was right and Seamus couldn't get serious – for long, anyway – but right now, he was damn serious about everything.

What Neville said made Seamus' eyes widen.

"I wanted to say sorry."

The boy kept his eyes down too, and Seamus waited as there seemed to be more. After a few more steps of awkwardness, Neville continued:

"For yesterday. I was... I said some things I didn't mean."

"Like what?" Seamus couldn't force the impatience and expectations out of his breathless question.

There was a moment of silence, and Seamus tried to think of anything Neville might want to apologize for, but his mind was empty and echoing with his heartbeats, ridiculously quick.

"Like..." Neville's voice caught and he swallowed audibly, obviously not used to saying things like that aloud, "that I didn't want to spend time with you."

"So you do?" Seamus asked – or confirmed, he didn't know – and this time, his voice was perfectly impersonal, not mirroring any of the thousand of emotions that played inside him – relief, hope, uncertainty, doubt.

"I..." Neville took another deep breath, but when he spoke again, his words were steady and resolute, "yes. I think. Just... I don't think you'd be able to have whole lot of fun with someone like me."

Seamus smirked towards his feet and then finally looked at Neville. That one 'yes' was more than he dared to hope for.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have terribly low self-esteem?"

The boy blushed again, which might've been the cause of the cold wind too, but for some reason, Seamus doubted that. Neville looked up finally and met his eyes, smirking slightly, hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure whether he could, and Seamus made a mental note to joke more and see every kind of smile Neville could use.

"I heard it once or twice from one annoying Irish guy," Neville joked too and his voice trembled as if he wasn't used to retort like that. Seamus realized that he wasn't – Neville didn't joke much, if at all – he was most often on the receiving end.

Then, Neville's lightly smiling face grew serious, his eyes falling to the ground again:

"Seamus... I'm... not used to anything like this and-"

"Nev, there's no 'something like this', okay?" Seamus interrupted, suddenly feeling very insecure about every move he could possibly make. Dean was right; this wasn't like the girls he used to like before. He would hurt Nev more if he were to throw him away one day, and that knowledge sat heavy on Seamus' shoulders.

But the tenderness that rushed through him as Neville glanced up made him smile and forget any precaution. Not that he was one to be careful.

"We'll just... try to spend time together and see where it goes, okay?"

Neville crossed his arms across his chest as if hugging himself – which might have been because of the cold weather, but it seemed more like a self-protective gesture to Seamus as the boy spoke rapidly, addressing his words to the pathway under his feet:

"Listen – I'm not used to being around people or entertaining them or whatever, so it might just happen that I bore you to death and that's why I was such a prick yesterday. I got scared that you wanted to spend time with me, because all I do is read and try to keep up my schoolwork and sometimes walk around the lake, but that's all and-"

"Nev..."

"-you are a lot more interesting person than I could ever be and I don't think this will work out after all and-"

The tenderness and warmth were back, flooding Seamus' chest as he listened to Neville's rant and he suddenly wanted to make it known to this boy just how _much_ he was worth.

"NEV!" he said sharply and Neville stopped as if waking up from a trance, blinking and blushing as he realized how much he had said.

"Sorry," Neville whispered, and Seamus sighed. This quest for Neville's self-esteem proved to be harder and harder by minute. And, despite his resolve, he was feeling nervous... nervous being next to Neville Longbottom. If someone had told him that just a month ago, he'd laugh his ass off, but it was reality now.

And because of nervousness, Seamus broke into a rant of his own:

"You don't have to apologize, you know. And you don't have to be so nervous – or be nervous, because I am as well, you know... I am not used to really wanting to spend time with someone, you know, other than Dean probably, 'coz he's my best friend, but not - you know."

"... and you just said 'you know' about a dozen times, but I don't really know anything," Neville finally looked at him for more than just a second, and as Seamus held the gaze of those bright blue eyes, he felt that he didn't know anything either and at the same time knew all that mattered. When Neville smiled, the warmth inside of Seamus' chest intensified tenfold.

"That makes the two of us," Seamus chuckled, and Neville did the same, and all felt just fine at that moment.

For a while, they walked in silence, but somehow this tranquillity that settled over them didn't feel alien and awkward, not at all. It felt like a space full of something, full of words to be said, emotions to be conveyed in the time to come, just not at that very moment. That moment was just to savour what transpired between them.

Seamus broke the silence first when he realized they came to the end of Hogsmeade already.

"So what about we try this spending time together business in some shops, 'coz I'm freezing right now...?"

Neville smiled again, nodded and walked into the first store of the street, a candy shop not as famous as Honeydukes, but nice nonetheless.

Seamus followed, and when the air sweetened by the scent of chocolate hit him, he smiled too. It felt as if that sweetness in the shop came right out of his soul.

He joined Neville in front of one cabinet full of little chocolate animals and plants, and remembered something Luna had said earlier.

"May I ask... what's a Packidermatos Parsley?"

Neville looked at him, and for a moment, Seamus thought that he was going to be reprimanded for not paying attention to something important in Herbology class – but then, Neville shrugged:

"No idea."

They both burst out laughing, and when their hands brushed as they rested over the glass of that cabinet, Seamus felt that he wouldn't be able to wipe a silly smile from his face for eternity.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He was right – the smile was plastered all over his face for the whole rest of the weekend, even when he had to spend the entire Sunday in library for his Defence essay.

On Monday morning, it was still on its respective place and Seamus gave up on wiping that smile off his face.

"I want details," Dean plopped down next to Seamus and reached for some pastries, while Seamus grinned.

"Glad to see that Herbology didn't kill you yet. And what details?"

"Details on your Defence essay, idiot," Dean rolled his eyes and stuffed his mouth with a strawberry cookie. When Seamus didn't get the clue to continue, he swallowed and made himself clear: "Of course I want details on whatever happened with Neville!"

Seamus gave his best shot at a scolding grimace, but the grin was in the way, so he gave up.

"You think I'm gonna tell you?"

"Please, Seamus," another cookie made it to Dean's stomach half-unchewed, "you'd tell me even if I didn't want to know, so stop tormenting both of us by prolonging this and tell me already."

Seamus beamed – talking about good things was almost as good as experiencing them.

"Okay, so... I think we're together now."

At Dean's wide eyes and a raised eyebrow, Seamus' grin widened from crazy to impossible.

"You mean like officially?"

"No, nothing like that, just... we agreed to spend some more time together, so... that counts, right?" Seamus' madly happy look dared Dean to oppose. The boy just rolled his eyes.

"I hope for the sake of my sanity it does. So? How was it like? Your date?"

"It wasn't a date. Yet," Seamus said with fake modesty, but The Grin spoke otherwise.

"So nothing happened?"

"We talked," Seamus shrugged, remembering the way Neville smiled. And how they had fun at that candy shop, trying out various impossible tastes. How Neville got chocolate on his face, and didn't manage to wipe it away with his hand, so Seamus wiped it for himself, and could feel Neville's cheek heat under his touch as Nev blushed.

"And?" Dean interrupted Seamus' trip to dreamland impatiently.

"We took a walk. And talked some more."

"AND?" impatience nearly threw Dean off the bench as he stared at Seamus. He hated Seamus when he was being teased like this. Seamus knew how curious he was when it came to his friends' personal business, and not telling him, or telling him in pieces, was more torture to Dean than double Potions.

And Seamus used it to his full advantage, the grin never leaving his face:

"Then we went to several shops, you know, Honeydukes and so..."

Dean threw his hands to the air in a defeated gesture and reached for a toast with an exasperated sigh:

"I give up."

"You scold me when I kiss him, you are unhappy when I don't kiss him. Decide already," Seamus grinned, reached for his own breakfast of choice and winked at Dean, who just blinked and chuckled.

"You're an idiot. But I hope you get lucky this time," Dean met Luna's eyes from across the Great Hall, gave her thumbs-up, which was appreciated by a smile from the Ravenclaw table, and returned back to his pastries now that his curiosity was satisfied with some good news.

~*~*~*~*~*~


End file.
